


Sly Janet

by Shatterpath



Series: Doggie Aspects [2]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-10-29
Updated: 2001-10-29
Packaged: 2017-11-05 00:15:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/399787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shatterpath/pseuds/Shatterpath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emily gives herself and Janet a scare, but with a funny story made up on the spot, all is well once again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sly Janet

**Author's Note:**

> Aspects prompt #3- Sly
> 
> Janet, as chosen by Caitrin.
> 
>  
> 
> Not really sure where the booger monster came from, but it worked!

++ Janet ++

 

(10-29-01)

 

Watching out for them is second nature now. As a doctor, I’m always aware of the people around me, like blips on some internal radar, but now…

 

Now it’s personal.

 

My kids, and the children that share my heart, live here, beneath my watchful eye, along with the women that hold them all so dear. Unconsciously, I watch the adults as closely as the children.

 

It takes a careful eye and a sly stealth to prevent them all from whatever ills might befall them.

 

Or at least do my best.

 

Today, I’m keeping a careful eye out on Emily. Uncharacteristically, she’s alone in the backyard, half-hidden in the shadows of the trees, and I’m amused to note that she appears to be picking her nose.

 

The sudden blood-curdling scream makes me drop the soapy plate back into the sink. Don’t give a damn about the sudsy shatter of ceramic, or the slosh of water to the floor, I’m out that backdoor and across the grass with a speed that only the children can inspire. I only beat the twins there because I’m taller and better coordinated, and we pause where Emily stares at her outstretched finger in horror.

 

She’s trying to shake off what is obviously a very large, slimy booger. Taking a deep breath to keep myself from laughing, I kneel down. “Em’ly, baby, what’s wrong?”

 

Wailing miserably, she shakes her hand all the harder, sobbing, “there’s a slug in my nose!”

 

To cover my smile, I grab the little, grubby hand, and wipe off the offending clump, wracking my brain on how to calm the blubbering four-year-old. So, I ignore the damp dirt and the autumn chill in the air, and plop down to gather the three close. The moment reminds me of my new pregnancy, the little seed held deep and safe in my body and I’m blissfully happy there for the moment.

 

But, back to Emily. “It’s not a slug,” I say and show them the clump of half-dried mucous held in the dishtowel I ran out with.

 

“Than what?” Emily pouts, but doesn’t move away from her prime spot against my chest. Great, now I need some kind of story… Then I’m suddenly reminded of that silly half-cartoon movie that I watched with Cassie, the one with Bill Murray, where the body was a city, and the different roles of the cells were drawn like individuals, with jobs and lives of their own.

 

Got it.

 

“It’s a battlefield.”

 

All three stare at me, blue eyes and brown like saucers, and I hide my amusement with a sly, conspiratorial grin.

 

“Remember how dust makes you sneeze?” They nod, enraptured by my voice. I love this… “That’s because dust and other little, teeny ticklies are not good for your insides.” Cubby and Emily giggle when I tickle them, and Fawn leans even more heavily on my shoulder. “So your body makes troops of mucous, that wet, slimy stuff that drips when you have a runny nose, and they fight the invaders. There are guard gates too, long hairs in your nose that catch some of the yucky dust and whatever ickies might make you sick, or just make you sneeze.” Cubby makes me chuckle as he pokes his nose, like he can’t believe what I’m saying. Fawn grabs mine, determined to see what I’m talking about, and I take the prodding with as much dignity as possible. “And when there are a lot of invaders, there is a lot of mucous, and the remains of the battle have to get out, so that the regular mucous guards can do their job. And that’s why you have to blow your nose.” I finish triumphantly, and the kids crack me up by cheering.

 

The twins toddle back inside, while Emily leans over the towel, where her scare lays. “Good job, guys,” she whispers and is off in a flash. I can only laugh, and realize that I have to pry myself out of this dirty little corner to continue my vigil over them.

 

But a chorus of, “ _babas!_ ” keeps me where I am. Art will watch over them for a moment, before looking for me. Sure enough, my dearest love pokes her head out of the still-open back door.

 

“Janet?”

 

“Here.”

 

She squints in my general direction, looking startled when I wave, and trots over. “What are you doing in Emily’s little hidey-hole? And how the hell did you get in there?” On hands and knees, Art is just able to shove her head and shoulders into the space, leaving us nose to nose. Far be it from me to pass up the opportunity, and kiss her softly, sweetly, asking her for some time together with the sensual promise.

 

Art’s eyes are pale with arousal, and she smiles with pleased surprise. So, I trace her features lovingly and purr, “I was doing my best to explain an icky body function to the kids. Care to take a girl somewhere private and share a few more?”

 

That earns me a laugh, and more slow, melting kisses. “My pleasure, _ahgapee mou_. You look like you could use a shower anyway.”

 

“Sounds good to me!”


End file.
